


Dark Touch

by FrostAcademic



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Graphic descriptions of Pitch's body, Graphic details about Pitch's genitals, Lonely orgasm, Longing from afar, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostAcademic/pseuds/FrostAcademic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spying on Jack Frost playing with children in the snow, Pitch has some long forgotten feelings resurface, and acts upon them in his caverns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Touch

He watched them quietly from the shadows, seeing how happy they were, seeing them smile and laugh. He hated them so much, hated how they didn't believe in him, didn't see him as he tried to scare them, how the nightlights kept him under the beds, and not able to enter rooms. The children laughed, not seeing him at all as they played in the snow... the snow..  
He came into the light, his smile bright and cheery, the kids running after, tossing snowballs at each other with him... seeing him, tugging the edges of his sweater, talking to him in high voices, laughing, smiling..believing.  
He frowned, but the sight of him... of his old foe...Jack Frost. He felt a strange feeling in his belly at the sight of him, a sort of heat the built in his center and moved into his chest, seeming to pop like champagne bubbles rapidly, before going into his...  
He blinked at the unfamiliar feeling, the heat slicking his core, making something happen beneath the snug hold of his leggings, beneath the heat of his coat.  
Taking a finally look to the frolicking children and laughing sprite, he stepped back into the wall behind him, feeling it melt away into shadows, his home sliding into his view, dark and dank as usual.  
He strode through the cave-like structure, the cages rusted in twisted piles in dark corners, the stone dripping with tendrils of moss and hanging roots from plants above, his only link to the above ground. The shadows shifted away from him, and the Fearlings fled his stride, squealing like mice. He strode directly into a large cavern, the only with a door in the whole massive caverns, and stood in front of a mirror against the back wall, frowning. He closed the door, and bolted it carefully, before removing his coat, staring at his own body in the cloudy glass. He still had his warriors body from the years past, toned and well built, dusky grey all over, the nipples black.  
His hand stroked his chest, and he watched his fingers tweak the nipple, making it harden, pinching it hard enough to hurt, before sliding down his belly, along a narrow hip, to the bulge in his leggings. His hand slid along it, feeling it. He was so unused to this... this hardness. Sure, he had seen it: every evening he saw it while bathing, and he saw it while sleeping, as he abhorred clothes during sleep. It meant nothing to him: he required no food, so he had no urine. But now...an old feeling... and an old body reaction, as he gently undid the silver clasp of his leggings, letting them fall. All he wore was his tall boots, tight leather hugging his skin to the mid thigh, darker than his skin, comfortable.  
His hand touched it then, sliding along it. His penis.. or cock, according to slang. Usually, it hung down between his legs like a loose sausage, annoying when he tried to cross his legs, and easily forgotten unless he rolled wrong while sleeping and crushed his..his balls. He was so unused to this kind of thing, that he barely remembered the terms, or slangs for them. He couldn't remember the term for what it was right now, as a dusky hand slid along the hot shaft, tracing a vein that ran along it. It sent a soft shiver up his spine, and dim recollection of sex and pleasure from his old life ran through his mind, but at rebirth he became pure again..in every way. The old knowledge came into his mind as he gently took his cock in hand, and gave a small tug upwards. The sensation made his knees buckle: after over 405 years of being untouched, his cock was extremely sensitive, and he let go with a gasp.  
He smirked to himself, as he strode to the bed across the room, lounging back onto it, watching his cock throb between his long legs. He liked how it looked, if he wanted to admit it: a very fine dusting of hair ran along its base, and it was long, slender, the skin slightly darker than his legs. More dusky skin capped the head, a bead of clear fluid at the perfect circle at its top. He gently thumbed it away, letting himself gasp at the small pang of pleasure that shot through him. His other hand trailed along his thigh, slipping along the top of his boot to cup the weight of his balls below, squeezing them, not gently either. He relished the bit of pain that crept up his spine, and licked his black lips with a dark tongue, remembering the motion required. His hand pulled up, the skin sliding along the head.  
He took up a easy movement, pulling the foreskin up, then sliding back down the shaft again. It didn't feel particularly good, only a slight shiver of pleasure, but he figured it was more than likely deadened after years without stimulant of any sort. He would grudgingly clean it, but that was only pulling it aside to soap the skin. This was something else altogether. He squeezed his balls tighter, and gasped a second time, his breathing picking up as pleasure and pain tightened his belly.  
As his hand steadily went its boring way along the shaft, a dirty but intriguing idea crept into his mind. He brought his free hand to his lips, and licked the fingertips, sliding his hand down beneath his balls, to the tight entrance beneath. As he did not eat, this area was useless to him fully, simply a part of human anatomy he had to deal with. He knew what could be done with it: He had watched dozens of people in the act over the many years, and had seen what this innocent little hole could do. However, he didn't know WHAT exactly did it: something inside was all he knew.  
But he was the Nightmare King: nothing would frighten him, and most certainly not exploring with a finger up his ass.  
It went in easily, and he briefly wondered if he had done this before in human life, as he clumsily felt around. It wasn't unpleasant, just different. Different was good after the years alone. After the "battle" with the Guardians.. they honestly thought his own Nightmares would harm him? All they did was take him back, and close one of the many bed portals. Alone, he plotted what to do next, and watched them frolic with humans, like Jack playing with the children...  
A heat gripped his belly at the thought of Jack, his penis throbbing under his hand, more hot fluid dripping from the slit, slicking his grip. The finger found something inside him, and his hips arched upwards as pleasure shot through him, a dull ache racing through his belly. He gently rubbed the small walnut sized bundle inside, a low moan coming from the back of his throat. As he fingered himself this way, his thoughts trailed off into a image of Jack Frost before him, teasing him, stripping down to only tight briefs that hugged his generous bulge, grinning his annoying, trademarked smirk as he thumbed them down.  
His breathing hitched, both hands moving quickly over his long neglected flesh, as he imagined Jack bending, teasing, pulling his cock, playing with his balls, all the while smirking and laughing, flirty and young.  
He stiffened, and a cry tore from his lips as he came hard, large spurts hitting his face, before it petered out into a dribble that coated his belly, and made his penis tacky and slick.  
He lay there for a few moments, fingers still inside. He gave his prostate a last caress, and pulled his fingers free, letting his hand dangle limply by his side, his breathing heavy. His cock slowly returned to its normal limp state, lying on his thigh.  
"Jack.." He whispered, licking his black lips. "Don't you see what you do to me?"  
Pitch sat up, and stretched his arms over his head, his belly tight and cramped from lying down so long. He left the bedroom area, and took a long, hot shower in the water that trickled down the rocks from the pond above, and wondered if Jack had ever done this, if he'd ever cum like this.  
He planned to find out very soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this except I wanted to see a story like it. They say write to please yourself (no pun intended), so I wrote the sort of erotica I wanted to see. I also explored a few dirty thoughts I've had regarding Pitch's anatomy, but that's highly off-topic.


End file.
